Usual disclaimers.
"Darius Luna," Gibbs said as soon as he returned from escorting Esai Cormier home. "Who is he?"
"Looks like he was a minor player in the Pena's operation, boss," McGee said, his eyes scanning the giant flat screen. "Got nabbed on an assault charge about ten years ago, but it never went to trial."
"Bet I know why," Rossi quipped, a noticeable absence of mirth to his voice.
"Sold off his victim," Gibbs guessed.
"That's a safe bet, boss. It was, however, just enough to get him in the system."
"Forensics?" Hotch asked?
"There was DNA present, but according to your witness, he was at the fire," McGee replied. "The fire might have altered the composition of his DNA slightly…"
"Or he might be dead or in jail," Morgan finished.
"Not in jail," the perky voice of the BAU's tech goddess responded. Her image took up part of the flat screen, and she began again: "Darius Luna pretty much vanished since the day of the fire. There is no electronic trail, no paper to trace, no nothing. Like his uncle, he merely disappeared."
"Ghosts do not kidnap people!" Chase said, her tone making a few of the men in the room jump. "There has to be something out there we're missing!" The dead silence that welcomed her ears after her outburst and the faces of surprised and slightly frightened people surrounding her made her instantly regret her words. "Sorry," she said. "I'm a little…"
Just then a phone rang. "Gibbs," the older naval agent barked, his face looking more stern than ever. "Uh-huh. Well, get in it here and we'll see, won't we?" With that, the phone hung up.
"Good news?" Hotch asked.
"Maybe. Ziva's coming back from the girl's house, says there's something we should look at. Wouldn't say what."
"Okay," Chase said, slumping into a rolling chair. "We know this guy Luna probably is the one who's restarted the 'business,' and we know he's got an agenda…"
"Targeting victims from the families of those who broke the ring last time," Morgan finished.
"Never knowing what might be happening to their loved ones is more painful than just attacking the intended 'targets' outright," Hotch concurred. "Slower, more excruciating, if not physically painful."
"Well, here's what we do know," Garcia said. "The paper trail that does exist lists Luna's parents—and, it so happens, he's the son of Pena's sister, who died 'mysteriously' about twenty years ago. Guess who he was placed with?"
"His uncle," the group in Miami said at once.
"You guys are no fun. Anyway, after the fire, nothing. However, about six months after that fire a small company sprouted up, claiming itself to be an import/export business just off the coast of Key West…"
"Give us a map of that location?" Chase asked. Garcia pulled up a map of the area—a large island just several miles west of Key West.
"International waters, meaning out of our jurisdiction," Emily said.
"Not ours," Gibbs countered. "This is a Navy case, involving a Navy lieutenant's kidnapped daughter."
"But they plan to 'do business' in this country…is there an outlet on the mainland, Garcia?" Emily asked.
"Already found it," McGee said. He brought up a third panel showing the teams a small, well-kept warehouse just near Fort Walton Beach. "Lunairia Imports," the naval agent said. "Claims to specialize in importing furniture and 'other goods' from all corner of the earth."
"Business records?" Rossi asked. "I'm sure human 'merchandise' isn't shown on that sales floor…"
"Looks like…tables, sofas, several styles of lamps, even bed and bath items," McGee said, printing off a copy of several invoices. "From all accounts, the place seems legit."
Chase looked at her old friend. –Run that new program of yours through their business records,-- she said silently. –This guy's getting his 'clients' for his real 'merchandise' somewhere…--
Kyle nodded, then pulled out a flash drive. –Watch and learn, Agent McGee,-- he signed, then began running the program. Several minutes later, Kyle had pulled up a list of fifteen or so names that seemed to make a 'lot' of purchases from the shop.
--These are most likely your 'regular clients,'—Kyle said. –The styles this guy carries are nice and all, but how many end tables does one really need?—
--"Precisely,"—Chase said, perusing the names. Looking at all three techs, she asked, --"Can you run these names?"—
"Backgrounds," Garcia said.
"Records here and abroad," McGee added
--And business transactions,-- Kyle finished. –We got it.—
Chase smiled. "Em, grab your coat—we're taking a trip."
"And the rest of us are supposed to do…what exactly?" Gibbs challenged.
"Your girl Ziva might have the key to this thing. We need to find out where Luna's real base of operations is, and how we're going to get on it." Just then the phone rang, and Chase answered immediately. "Yeah? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Really? Okay, thirty minutes."
"Change of plans?" Rossi asked dryly.
"Yeah. Mike thinks he's found a way in. I want to go check that out."
"I'm going with you," Emily said.
"Fine."
"I'm driving," Morgan said simply, snatching a pair of keys out of his pocket.
"Whoa," Chase said. "Ever hear of the word covert?"
"Ever hear of the phrase don't care?"
"Morgan, she's right. Too many strange people might tip them off."
"Well, then what do you want me to do, Hotch?" the agent challenged, staring at the lead agents in the room. "Sitting here isn't finding them any faster!"
The room instantly fell silent. "Chase, Emily, go," Hotch said quietly. "Anything we learn is better than not knowing."
The investigator and her profiler counterpart nodded silently and left. Hotch turned and said, "Morgan, a word?"
"What?"
"Come with me." Hotch opened the door and ushered the younger man out. The two turned down a corner and as they disappeared from sight Gibbs looked at Rossi with questioning eyes and a strange smile. "There's history there, isn't there?"
Rossi's only response was "Yeah." Even he wasn't up on all the details, but he'd been around long enough and had a feeling he knew what Hotch was trying to shield the younger agent from. "There's history there."
"Know the feeling. Is it a problem?"
"I have a feeling we're about to find out," the profiler said as his colleagues returned to the room, Hotch wearing his usual poker-face and Morgan considerably subdued. "Now, about this information your agent has…" Hotch said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.
----
"Lady, you're a maniac!" Sam bellowed as he forced the car to a complete stop. "Are you trying to kill everyone in front of you, or what?"
"This is the quickest way back to the office," Ziva argued, her voice very matter-of-fact. "You have a problem with that?"
"I've got a problem with you trying to run down, bowl over, and flat-out destroy any pedestrian, moving vehicle and species of plant life that gets in your way!" the former Navy SEAL retorted. "Jesus, it's like Fi and her guns…"
"Guns?" Ziva asked, her interest now piqued.
"Hang on…where'd you say you were from again?"
"Tel Aviv, originally. Why?"
"Oh, crap." Sam ran a hand through his already mussed, badly graying hair and dragged it down his face. "Not another whacked-out gun-loving ninja freak…"
"I am not a 'ninja freak,' whatever that is," Ziva huffed. "Unless you mean that I know two dozen ways to kill someone with my little finger, in which case, yes, I am and proud of it."
"Oh, Christ." To himself, Sam noted, Keep Fi and this chick as far away from each other as possible!
----
"What am I looking at, guys?" Chase asked as she and Emily walked down the narrow docks towards the pair standing in a very stylish Cigarette boat. "And how'd you get the…"
"Let's just say we 'borrowed' it," Fiona said simply. "I'm afraid we haven't met properly," she said to Emily, who was stepping into the watercraft. "I'm Fiona."
"Emily. Nice to meet you." Though there was something about the lithe little woman that set the profiler on edge, her skill clearly told her that Fiona—if that was even her real name—was no threat to either them or the other government agents working this particular 'case.' Emily also had a feeling that it was because of Chase that she wasn't.
"Interesting thing about this place," Michael said as he fired up the engine. "It's about three to five miles off of Key West…"
"International waters," Chase and Emily said in unison. "We know," Chase added.
"So, basically, whoever has the gold—or the guns—makes the rules," Fiona said, a bright smile widening across her face.
"I smell a 'shopping trip,' Fi," Chase said. "You know right now I'm good for one."
"Tell me about it. Hector there could use some company."
Emily looked at Chase. "Hector?"
Chase pulled back her peasant top to reveal a customized H&K with a large magazine and a built-in silencer. "You wouldn't believe the kinds of hoops I had to go through to get him, either," the investigator said. "My pride and joy, after my boys."
"Your 'boys'?" Michael said, a small smile crossing his face.
"Your mother's not totally wrong, Mike. Family first. Kyle and Oliver are it."
"Do we have to mention my mother?"
"What's so interesting you had to show us in person?"
Once a 'suitable' location was found, Fiona dropped anchor and Michael pulled out a large pair of binoculars. "Some contacts I have said that there was a man looking for some sort of special kind of 'collars'…
"The ones for people, that lock permanently," Fiona clarified.
"S&M stuff," Emily said. The reply earned her a look from her younger colleague. "Hey, deviant behavior. We specialize in that?"
"Oh-kay," Chase said. "So?"
"So when you're buying one or two, it's no big deal," Fiona said. "Start buying in lots, though, and…"
"Someone's gonna notice," the group said as one.
"These guys were trying to buy the things on the black market," Michael said. "One of 'em, kid named Raul, was trying to get a few to 'customize'."
"Ugh, God," Chase grimaced. "Creepy."
"Yeah. Well, took some doing, but we found out where the kid's been coming to after his little 'trips' to the mainland."
"Here?" Emily said, scouting the shoreline with the binoculars.
"Perfect spot," Fiona pointed out. "Quiet, secluded, no pesky laws to worry about…"
"And limited access," Michael said. "Keeps unwanted visitors out and 'merchandise' looking to escape locked up tight."
"People, not 'merchandise'," Chase said simply. "Two of 'em ours."
"And a little girl," Emily reminded her.
"I didn't forget." The thought of what might be happening to any of them right now made the investigator's skin crawl. "Million dollar question: How do we get in?"
"Ears on the ground, we're looking," Mike said. "Looks to me like they're getting ready for something big, over there," he said, pointing towards a small dock and a receiving platform nearby.
"Sale, maybe?" Fiona wondered.
"Let's hope not," Chase said.
"No, wait," Emily said. "That's it."
Chase snorted. "I'm following, but who are we going to get to be the 'buyer'?"
Emily's eyes glanced towards the unlikely pair in front of her. "What?" Michael said cautiously as the women on the boat began to smile complacently.